Harry Potter and the troll that changed fate
by vis00
Summary: What if the event that forged the golden trio went wrong, as it so easily could have? Strong and not stupid Harry Potter. No bashing. A more mature, gray Harry.
1. The troll that changed fate

I was running.

Running faster than I have ever run before. I had to be on time!

Ron was running beside me. Well, behind me. I was faster then him, yet it felt like I was barely moving at all.

We could not be late!

I could not be late!

We raced passed empty classrooms and finally we were there.

I could hear her scream just as the foul stench reached my nostrils. We were _late._

I pushed the door open and with barely a thought flung myself inside. I regretted it a spit second later as I crashed into a large heavy body.

'I must be the troll.'

Funny how I could think something so calm when my heartrate doubled, my blood pressure spiked, and my body flooded with adrenalin.

I was terrified. The troll didn't even notice me.

As I backed off, I got a good look at it. Twelve-foot-tall with a club so large it was dragging it on the floor beside him.

She screamed again and time seemed to unfreeze. The troll roared and advanced on the poor schoolgirl. It flung its large club and destroyed the stalls – and much of the bathroom with them – making the girl scream again and dive to perceived safety. She was wrong.

As the troll was once again making its way over to her, I was desperately looking for something to distract it with. Seeing all the broken pieces of bathroom on the floor I picked some up and started throwing it at the troll.

Ron – having followed me into the bathroom – copied what I was doing and soon the troll was peppered with broken bathroom pieces.

But just as it didn't notice an eleven-year-old crashing into it, it also didn't notice some small pieces of debris. Or if it did notice, it most certainly didn't care.

And with one almost lazy swing, Hermione granger was flung into a wall. The sound of her spine breaking and her bones snapping easily heard in the small bathroom.

Ron threw up.

I just stared. Her arms and legs bend at unnatural angles and her eyes – still open – staring back at me. Those large dead brown eyes.

The beast slowly turned around to look at us, to kill us.

We where going to die in here.

_I_ was going to die in here.

The trolls club, easily large enough to reach us, swung again. This time at Ron.

I dived at him, not noticing the door flinging open and half the teacher staff bursting into the room. It saved his life. Me hitting him and pushing him out of the way, I mean.

The club still graced him, sending him a good ten feet away and making him scream in agony.

'Pain is good, it means you're still alive to feel it.' I caught myself thinking.

What a weird thing to think.

* * *

Professor Flitwick was the first through the door, one of only two that saw Harry Potter push Ron Weasley out of the way in the nick of time. As he did a quick sweep of the room, he saw what was left of miss Granger.

His blood boiled at the sight.

With speed no teacher had seen – save very few – he had his wand in hand and a brilliant chain of spells was aimed at the troll, who was slowly turning his head at the newcomers.

Now, normally, a troll is nearly impervious to magical attacks and take teams of specialized hunters or aurors to take down. Flitwick is not a normal wizard.

As the first spells impact on the beast it was pushed back. As Flitwick's first spell chain ended the troll was pushed against the wall, heavily bleeding. As Flitwick's second spell chain ended, the troll was little more than a smear on the wall. With a final flick of his wrist, what was left of the troll was vanished with a powerful evanesce.

More teachers made their way into the bathroom and saw the carnage that was left in the tolls wake. madame Pomfrey pushed her way through to Ron and performed a quick diagnosis. "He needs to be brought to the infirmary, _now!_"

"Yes, yes, of course Poppy, bring this poor boy to the infirmary Pomona." The headmaster said, sorrow heavily bleeding into his tone.

With Ron being bound on a stretcher, Madame Pomfrey made her way to Hermione. One small sweep of her wand told her all she needed to know.

"Miss Granger is dead."

With the ensuing chaos that such a sentence usefully follows, Harry Potter was left forgotten.

As the teacher left to check on the other students, Harry Potter had leaned and slit down a small piece of undestroyed wall. Tears streaming down his face.

As Hermione's body was lifted on a stretcher and brought to the infirmary, Harry Potter had stopped crying.

As the headmaster left to inform Miss Grangers parents, Harry Potter was left alone in that destroyed bathroom.

Well, that's not true. There was one other person.

Severus Snape.


	2. Advice from a bat

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**End disclaimer**

* * *

I sat there staring at a broken piece of mirror as I was left alone in that bathroom.

Alone.

Again.

Hermione and Ron where the only friends I have ever had.

Now Hermione is dead, and Ron will probably never speak to me again.

All alone again. Just like before.

I thought Hogwarts was going to be different. And it was.

On the train here I met Ron, my first friend. How that happened I'll never know. I'm just Harry after all, just Harry. Nothing special.

Although apparently there is something special. I defeated a dark lord when I was one year old, and everyone sees me like a hero. Some hero I am, can't even save my friends. Well, friend.

I never spoke much with Hermione, she was a bit bossy and demanding. Stuck to rules like they where a shield. But I could see it in her eyes, that same loneliness that I felt. And just because of that I consider her my friend.

Considered.

She's dead now.

Gods she was smart, caught her reading an old second years book that someone left in the library a few weeks back. Probably looking to impress the teachers. I had to smile at that.

I tried that once, to get some attention from the teachers. Some pride from my aunt and uncle for my hard work.

I failed.

When I got home with a better grade that my cousin I was screamed at for cheating and shoved in my closet. That was the first and last time I ever showed my hard work to my relatives.

Then I got to Hogwarts, and it all changed. I was liked here. No cousin to bully my friend away, no aunt to scream at me when I goofed off. It's heaven.

Was.

It was heaven.

"Now it's not different, it's just more of the same."

More of life beating me down and nothing I can do about it, I guess.

"What are you talking about Potter?" A voice spoke up. Strange, I thought I was alone.

"Hogwarts was supposed to be different, it was supposed to be magical." My voice was strange, flat.

"different from what?" The voice spoke again, I know that voice.

"From home."

"What's your home like, Potter?" The voice was curious, intrigued.

"Lonely. Sometimes terrifying." I answered the voice. The voice was asking questions, why did it care?

"Where do you live?" There was an undertone of fear now, like it knew the answer but didn't want it confirmed. Well that's not my problem, is it?

"With my aunt and uncle."

"Your aunt Petunia?" Yep, that was definitely fear now.

"Yes," I answered back as I finally looked up. "Professor Snape."

"Do you know my aunt, professor?"

"Once. Not the most pleasant person from what I remember." Snape said carefully. He still hated the brat, but living with that piece of work was something he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy.

Well, maybe one or two. But not on Potter. No, Potter was not his worse enemy. He was half Lily after all.

And nothing with even a little bit of Lily was ever going to be his worst enemy.

I just snorted. "That's an understatement." Normally I would be a lot more careful with what I said, but I just couldn't seem to care right now.

It was quiet for a little while before I spoke up again. "It's my fault, isn't it?"

Snape bit back his first – sarcastic – answer. He was going to give the boy the respect of at least a well thought out answer. He deserved that after tonight.

"Yes. Had you called a teacher or even a prefect this would have played out differently. There is no way to know what might have happened, however, so miss Grangers death is not necessarily on you. Weasley, however, is your fault. I assume you led him here?" I nodded. "I thought so, Weasley is too cowardly to confront a troll. With good reason I might add." With an afterthought he added;

"Why did you come straight here Potter? Why _not_ call on a prefect or teacher?"

My replay came out slightly sarcastic. "And tell them what? That I was afraid that the troll that was reported to be in the dungeons was a danger to Hermione in nearly the other side of the castle? It would have taken too long to convince them."

Snape had to give him that one, he wouldn't have believed him. Not that he was there, he was checking on that dammed dog. Still had to get that bite checked out, he reminded himself.

"It's never going to change, is it?" I asked, not necessarily to Snape.

"Few things in life change without forcing them too, Potter." Snape admitted.

I just snorted again, had to stop doing that. "And how am I going to do that? I've never been able to before." The last part was spoken in barley a whisper.

Snape probably wasn't meant to hear that last part, but he did anyway. He was on his way out towards the infirmary when he answered. "Hogwarts employs some of the foremost experts in their fields, and on top of that has the most expansive library in the world. If you could learn to anywhere Potter, it's here." He drawled, already disappearing around the corner.

* * *

It took me ten more minutes to stand up after Snape left, it was surprisingly comfortable on the floor.

Or maybe I was just tired.

Doesn't matter.

I started the long way back towards my dormitories after casting one last glance over the bathroom. It would probably be fixed by morning. I didn't want it to. I wanted it to remain an ugly scar for a horrible day.

Unfortunately, I would have no say in the matter.

Maybe it's time to change that.

But first I'm going to take a shower and then go to bed. This day has gone on for far too long already.

When I reached the fat lady it swung open without me having to say a word. She had a sympathetic look on her face. Word travels fast then.

Or maybe I had been there longer then I thought.

The common room was empty, thank god. Or Merlin I suppose. I was still adjusting to little things like that.

When I opened the door to my bedroom three faces stared back at me, not saying a word.

I stepped out of my filthy clothes without saying a word and took a clean pair of pajamas with me to the bathroom, I was back within ten minutes.

Still nobody said anything. I was grateful, I had no idea what I would do if they asked me what had happened.

Cry probably, or maybe break something. Best not to find out.

So, I did know what I would do… You learn something new every day.

I was even sarcastic to myself now; this day really had gone on for too long already.

Without a second glance I stepped into bed and closed the curtains. It took me nearly an hour before I was finally able to fall asleep.

Morning came far too soon.

Another shower and a clean pair of clothes and I was on my way to breakfast. Not that I would be able to eat. Who would?

Oh, everyone apparently. The great hall was filled with eating and laughing students, no doubt planning to spend their free day goofing off or maybe catching up on some homework.

Admittedly, those people where rare.

It was after I had forced myself to eat my third spoon of oatmeal that it hit me. They didn't know.

They hadn't been told.

I glanced to the teacher table and noticed that the headmaster was missing. So was his deputy.

Well then, if they aren't going to need me for anything…

I abandoned what was left of my oatmeal and made a beeline back to my bed. Or more specifically the large chest next to my bed.

I grabbed my stuff and went to the library. I have wanted to explore it since I got here, but Ron never liked it and always dragged me away. I let him.

Now, no more Ron. No more anyone, really.

I claimed an out of the way table that was mostly out of sight and got my books out. I tried to write as neatly as possible – which was still pretty terrible – and started on what was left of my homework. Meaning all of it.

Four hours passed and I set my quill down. I hadn't worked like that since I got to Hogwarts. It almost felt good. Not that I was feeling much of anything mind you.

But enough was enough. Most of it was done and my wrist was starting to cramp, my quillmanship improved a little though. So that's something.

I put my homework away and got my defense against the dark arts book – my best subject – and started reading.

Before I knew it, the book was finished, and I heard some second year asking if they where going down to dinner yet.

That was kind of disappointing. Granted, I already finished roughly a third of the book and it was my best subject. But that's not really what I'm disappointed about anyway.

It mentioned three spells!

_Three_! And two of those where counter-curses.

It had the _**Locomotor Mortis. **_Also known as the leg-locker curse. And the _**Petrificus Totalus **_or full body-bind curse. The counters where both the same. The _**Finite **_or _**Finite Incantatem**_, an admittedly useful counter-spell that was only mentioned and taught in second years charms class.

Also, the book had the annoying tendency to go off on vampire tantrums.

I packed up my book and went to dinner with an annoyed scowl that was wiped off my face as I walked into the great hall.

Everything was covered in black.

Well, not the students, but you get the idea.

I sat as far away from my housemates as physically possible and looked at the headmaster.

* * *

Dumbledore watched the last students file into the great hall and noticed Harry was amongst them. He let out a sigh of relieve.

He had honestly forgotten about the boy!

It was only when the Grangers took their little girl home and the Weasleys had taken Ron to St Mungo's that he had a moment to breath and realized that Harry had completely slipped his mind.

Then he had to prepare his speech for dinner and make to proper arrangement to have the hall decked in black. When he was finally done with _that_ it was already dinnertime.

And now here he was, looking as Harry sat himself as far away from his peers as he could. He only had a moment to worry about it when the doors of the great hall closed, signaling that all students had arrived.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight I'm afraid that I have a terrible announcement." The hall was instantly quieted, the headmaster rarely made speeches when it wasn't a special event. And if he did, he never started them like that.

"Last night, after the Halloween feast and the discovery of a troll in the dungeons, Ronald Weasley was gravely injured and is currently residing in St Mungo's. In this same event, I'm afraid this school suffered a terrible loss."

By now you could hear a pin drop, people where afraid to breath. Little did they know that Dumbledore was – without meaning to – projecting his magic onto the great hall. It was a heavy feeling, foreboding.

"Hermione Granger is dead." The heavy presence was lifted from the hall as Dumbledore almost fell back into his chair.

* * *

It was a subdued meal, and when it was done the students almost fled the great hall. When I saw the deputy headmistress making her way over to me, I joined them in fleeing. I had no plans to spend my evening talking about what had happened.

"Mister Potter, the headmaster would li…" Was the last I heard before I disappeared into the throng of students. The noise they made drowning out everything else. Well almost everything else. I could hear one voice, I wished I didn't.

"So that mudblood finally kicked the bucked. Good riddance to her." Was all I heard Malfoy say before his voice was drowned out again.

Now, my cousin had this misconception that I couldn't fight. And it was true that he always won whenever he was "Harry Hunting". But that was just because if I touched one hair on his head there would be hell to pay.

But it wasn't always my cousin "hunting" me. See sometimes, he was tired, or lazy, or both. And in those times his friends would chase me without him. Now on those times, I would fight back.

I lost, of course. You can never really win a three or four on one, but I fought back. And I got better. I still never won, mind you, but after a while I would get in a punch or two. And after a few years I learned the hard way what to do and not to do in a fight.

So my cousin was very wrong on the notion that I couldn't fight.

And when Malfoy opened his big mouth, rage burned through my veins.

"Malfoy." I spat his name like a curse, and when he turned around, I punched him, hard. I could feel his nose break under my fist as all my hatred, shame and grief finally broke through.

But I didn't stop. I kept punching him over and over until Dean and Seamus pulled me off him.

The entire "fight" had lasted six seconds, but it looked like Malfoy had been hit by a train.

Just then Mcgonagall came barging towards us. She took one look at Malfoy before she ordered his friends to take him to the infirmary.

"You're coming with me Potter." With that she grabbed my arm and started dragging me to gods know where.

Merlin. To Merlin knows where.

Nah, that sounds stupid.

'Oh good, my haze is back.' I caught myself thinking before we stopped in front of large, imposing, gargoyle statue.

"KitKat."

I will admit to being slightly confused as to why our deputy headmistress was telling a stone gargoyle the word "KitKat". I got even more confused that she got annoyed when a stone statue didn't do anything when it was told about the wonders of muggle candy.

"KitKat." Mcgonagall said again, now definitely annoyed. It did nothing, again. You know, like a statue…

"He must be busy." Was all I heard her mutter before I was once again being dragged across the castle like some sort of ragdoll.

She barked an order at a painting that promptly complied and scurried off. And once again we arrived at our destination, this time it was a normal office. Mcgonagall's office, I presume. I was told to sit.

We sat there in silence for a while until the door opened and Malfoy came walking through it, followed closely by Snape. I narrowed my eyes at him.

Malfoy's face was all healed, we certainly had a competent medical staff. Although, no. Malfoy was missing a tooth, the grin that wanted to spread on my face was quickly drowned out when I realized it didn't matter.

Little mattered anymore. I would get punished and nothing would change. Not until I forced it to change. And to force anyone to do anything required power. Lots of power.

But that's in the future. Now it's time to face the music, as they say.

Before I could even say a word, Malfoy began; "It was Potter professor, he just went crazy and started beating on me for no reason."

He looked at me and smirked a little, like he had won some sort of prize. I just stared back at him, saying nothing. It seemed to unnerve him a little. Good.

"Mister Potter?" Mcgonagall asked me with a raised eyebrow.

"My punishment, professor?" I asked in return. That certainly shocked her, students generally try to get out of punishment, not ask for it.

"Mister Potter?" She repeated.

"Nothing will change with me trying to defend myself or my actions, what I did was wrong and should be punished for it." I drawled. This is a waste of my time, I could be studying, getting stronger.

Mcgonagall, having longs since given up trying to understand the minds of her students, decided to just go with it. She had to remind herself that a student accepting responsibility was good, not suspicious and wrong. She took some parchment and wrote a quick note.

"Give this to Filch." She handed me the note and made a shooing motion towards the door. I bowed lightly, feeling theatrical, and made my way towards the door before a voice stopped me;

"For curiosities sake Potter, what did mister Malfoy say that had you so… Angry?" Snape asked. Well, drawled really. He's loads better at it than I am.

I consider not telling him for a moment and just walking out, but I decided against it.

"He called Hermione a mudblood that finally decided to kick the bucket, sir." I could see an unholy fire flash in Mcgonagall's eyes for a moment before it was gone, and the stern yet fair professor was back. Snape didn't say or do anything, but the fact that he voiced no argument as professor Mcgonagall calmly stated that mister Malfoys punishment had yet to be decided spoke volumes.

Meanwhile, I had already left and was on my way to see Filch. The sooner I got this over with the better.

* * *

A few days passed in relative calm, mostly me doing chores for Filch and finally catching up on my homework. Now though, it was time for my first potions lesson after the "Incident", as I have started calling it.

The door opened and we all partnered up, before Professor Snape entered with his usual dramatic flair.

Normally I would be together with Ron, but Ron wasn't here. I heard that he had to spend a few more days at St Mungo's before he was allowed home. After that he wasn't going to return to school before Christmas, if not later.

So when Seamus and Dean stuck together like glue, I was left with Neville. Well fuck me then.

Snape flicked his wand on the board and the potion's name, ingredients and instructions appeared. I whispered to Neville;

"Make sure our equipment is clean, I'll get out ingredients." He shot me a grateful look before starting to wipe and wash the scales and caldron with fever. I just shook my head. Whoever was normally partnered with Neville probably never let him do anything for fear of him messing something up.

When I got back with our ingredients, I noticed out equipment appeared spotless. Good. This may not be as bad as I first thought.

When I looked to the board to read the instructions, I noticed they were somewhat off. The instructions where correct, mind you, but differed somewhat from the book. I got my book from my backpack and skimmed it.

The instructions on the board would produce an adequate potion, but it would never be perfect. I don't know if Snape did it on purpose or not, but when I told Neville to ignore the board and read from my book, Snape said nothing.

When Neville went to cut his ingredients, I stopped him;

"You're holding the knife wrong." He looked fearful for a moment until he noticed I wasn't angry.

I managed to hold back a sigh and showed him how to hold it correctly. Then how to cut the ingredients correctly. Then now to weigh them correctly.

So the first half of our lesson was filled with me correcting Neville on the tiniest of things. He did learn, thank god, just slowly.

When it was time to add the ingredients and I had to stop Neville on three separate occasions from adding the wrong thing, to adding it too soon or not adding it at all, I got exasperated. Finally, I decided to just ask him.

"Why are you here Neville?" He hung his head in shame and mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I know I don't belong at Hogwarts." It was said with such sadness that even I felt bad for him, until that was drowned out by the haze.

"Not that." I waved it away. "I mean here, in potions?" He appeared to have no answer to that. When it became clear I was waiting for one anyway he mumbled again, I just raised my eyebrow.

"Because I have to be?" He offered/asked.

"Really? Because I'm here to learn potions. I'm not here for professor Snape, or because I would fail if I didn't show up. I'm here because I want to _learn_." I paused for a second to look at him. "Why are _you _here, Neville?"

After my little speech, Neville appeared to become slightly less nervous and his hand less shaky. He still froze up whenever Snape would drop by and loom right behind us, but in the end we managed to produce a decent potion.

After class Neville shot me a grateful look and shot off to somewhere. I shrugged, he could do what he wanted with his free time.

I was going to spend my break in the library, Snape did just give us a rather long homework essay after all.

* * *

**The new chapter, enjoy.**

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	3. Growing stronger, and Neville

**Disclaimer:**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

**End disclaimer**

* * *

A few days had passed, and I had still not heard from the headmaster. Strange, considering he wanted to speak with me. But o well, that just left me with more time to study.

The teachers gave homework, of course, but with no social life – or friends for that matter- it was easy to keep up. To a higher standard than before, even. I read with the rest of my free time, mostly the textbooks for my year. Never hurts to know what we'll be learning in class beforehand.

I saw Neville approaching my little slice of hidden heaven and closed my book with a snap when he just stood there, ten feet from my table, fidgeting.

"Yes, Neville?"

The poor guy looked ready to bolt, but appeared to gather his resolve. "H-Harry."

"Neville." I will admit to fucking a bit with him, but it was just so eassssyyy.

"I… Mayb… could… joi… y…" He managed to stutter out. Now I just felt bad.

"Could you repeat that, Neville?"

He took a deep breath and stopped shaking, looked me dead in the eye and said with a voice so filled with conviction that it he even startled himself; "I thought a lot about what you said, about being here to learn. And I decided that you were right. So, I thought that maybe I could join you, for studying…"

His voice, so filled with conviction and strength, almost appeared to have died when he reached the end of his speech. Still, a major improvement over the guy that could barely say good morning to me before.

"You want to join me? For studying?" I was honestly a bit baffled, but whatever you say Neville. "Sure, why not?"

Neville's face split into a grin and he took a seat. "Thanks, Harry."

That was the last time we spoke for hours as I continued to read ahead in charms and Neville did his homework for potions. Half an hour into our little study session and he appeared stuck with it. So, I stood up and got him the book that I used for that essay. He looked like I'd remembered his birthday and got him a puppy. Strange kid.

It was dinner before we packed up. Neville, having long since finished his essay, took my example and read ahead in his herbology book. I had almost forgotten; the kid's a prodigy with herbology. Strange that he has such problems with potions, the two go hand in hand. Well, those two and care for magical creatures. Almost all ingredients for potions are either plants based or come from magical creatures, so an understanding of the two is vital for a good potions master.

"Neville." He looked up when I said his name. "Why do you have such difficulty with potions when it's so closely linked with herbology?"

Neville looked confused for a moment before his eyes widened and he shot off to somewhere in the library. I shrugged and went to dinner.

When Neville didn't show up at all, I decided that I might as well so something nice and packed him up some leftovers. When I returned to my little table in the library, I saw Neville sitting there, half a dozen books littering the place.

"Neville, I brought you dinner… You know… Since you didn't show up." I deadpanned. He wasn't even paying attention to me. Rude.

"Neville!" I snapped my fingers a couple times and he finally looked up, startled.

"Harry?! You were right!" Of course I was. "About what?"

"About Herbology and Potions! They _are_ linked! Do you know what this means?!" He rapid fired at me. Jesu-Merlin, what have I created?

"No Neville, what does this mean?" He's lucky I can't really feel annoyance.

"It means I get potions! Here look!" He shoved an old book in my hand and gestured almost violently at some plants and their properties relating to a potion I've never heard of.

"And what's this?" I asked as I read that the plant has a strengthening effect when properly mixed in with the brew.

"What? Oh, nothing, just some old potion that's obsolete when a better and cheaper one was invented." Neville waved away. "That's not the point, if I can think of potions as an extension to herbology, I can concentrate! Where before it was boring, now it's interesting. Where just an hour ago I wanted to run and hide from professor Snape, now I kinda want to ask him some questions about this!" Neville said excitedly as he plucked the book I was holding away and shoved another one in my hand, gesturing to some potion made entirely with plants. Seems like he becomes another person when herbology is involved. Good for you kid, good for you.

"As fascinating as this is, Neville, you missed dinner. I brought you some leftovers." I threw him the bundle of wrapped pie and potatoes, carefully as to not fling the contents everywhere.

Neville, still riding his new herbology is linked to potions high, caught the food easily and smiled; "Thanks Harry! Gotta be careful that I don't turn into Hermio…" He began jokingly before he visibly shrunk into himself. "Sorr-y-y-y H-Harry. I d-d-didn't mean t-to…" He trailed off when he saw that I hadn't even twitched. Little did he know that a wave a grief threatened to overwhelm me and was fighting it out with the cloud of nothingness.

"Let's just study some. I can recommend the counter-spell _**Finite Incantatem**_, it has a wide range of uses." I said tonelessly as I handed Neville an old second year charms book that I had found. You'd be surprised what students lose around here. "It's on page 293."

With that said I sank into a large chair and pretended to read as the grief was slowly drowned out.

* * *

It was while entering charms class the next day that I overheard a sixth year saying that professor Flitwick had tried to convince her to enter the dueling circles, he'd even offered to coach her!

Flitwick is offering to teach students dueling? That's a bit of interesting information I wasn't aware off.

I mostly waited for the period to end – He was covering something that I had already read about, although professor Flitwick did offer some information that wasn't in the book – so that I could speak to him.

The lesson finally ended and I waited for the class to leave, waving Neville away as he looked at me curiously.

"Can I help you with something, mister Potter?" Flitwick asked as he cleaned up some papers from his desk. Not all of course, that would be preposterous!

"Yes, professor. I overheard a sixth year saying that you offered to teach her dueling."

"And you want to take me up on those lessons?" Flitwick asked excitedly, looking me up and down, as if judging me.

"Yes, professor." I confirmed.

"Hmm, good build. Fast. Good reflexes, or so Minerva tells me, says you're good enough to bend the first-year broomstick rule." He winked, I stared.

Quidditch! I had complete forgotten about that! I'm supposed to be on the team, aren't I?

Whatever, I'll deal with that later.

"You're too young for me to really teach you any of the magic you need to know, but I can always teach you the other skills you'll need." He pointed at me sharply. "Dueling is about more than just being powerful or knowing lots magic, you know. Too many only focus on the magical side of dueling, instead of the physical."

When I looked at him questioningly, he explained; "While knowing advanced spells and being magically powerful will help, most neglect their physical prowess. If I dodge a spell instead of blocking it, I can save my magic to attack. Or defend if I have no other option." I nodded, it seemed logical to me.

"If this seems like an obvious thing to do, good! This is what I will teach you, for now at least." I raised my eyebrow at him. Just like that?

"Yes, mister Potter. I will teach you dueling. I've been looking for an apprentice since my last student graduated Hogwarts two years ago." I nodded, no questioning good luck. That's just asking for trouble.

"Are you free Friday after dinner?" Flitwick asked, mostly rhetorical. "Yes professor."

"Good, meet me here after dinner then." Recognizing a dismissal when I heard it, I turned around left. Flitwick's voice stopped me at the door.

"I know why you really want to learn dueling, mister Potter, and it's not to enter the dueling circles." He raised his hand when I was about to speak. "It changes nothing, I will still teach you. I felt the same during the war, believe me. But try to limit yourself." He once again motion for me to stay quit. "I know, I know. It's an impossible request." He sighed, looking old and tired. "At least try to find a hobby, mister Potter."

I nodded and left the classroom, but not before hearing one last piece of wisdom;

"It's a good goal, Harry. But don't let it consume you. It _will_, if you let it."

* * *

I ran into Neville down the hall, the guy had been waiting for me. That's nice of him.

"What do we have now?" I asked as we walked down the hallways. "Herbology, it's the last period for the day."

I nodded and we briskly walked toward out last obstacle before freedom. Well, before more study.

We made it with a few minutes to spare, they give more time between classes for the first half of the first year. Its quite a large and mazelike castle, after all.

"Want to partner up, Neville?" I said as we walked into the greenhouse. Quite a beautiful place, actually.

Neville looked at me with wide eyes and quickly nodded, like he was afraid I'd change my mind.

Herbology was a breeze, particularly because Neville was a treasure-trove of information, and soon enough everyone was racing out of class and toward their free evening. Not me and Neville though, he wanted to talk to Professor Sprout, and since Neville waited for me, I waited for him. I'm nice like that, most of the time.

I was lazing in front of the greenhouses as Oliver Wood came up to me. Right, quidditch, seems I'll be dealing with it sooner rather than later.

"Harry! I thought I could find you here. I wanted to give you this." He handed me a schedule, presumably for practice.

"I'm withdrawing from the team. You'll have to find a new seeker." Might as well rip off the band aid.

Wood seemed to freeze for a second before fixing a pained grin on his face. He grabbed me by the shoulder and started dragging me off. "Neville!" Neville's face appeared from the greenhouse. "It seems I'm being kidnapped." I deadpanned. "I'll meet you in the library once I'm done." Neville nodded uncertainty, looking entirety confused with the situation but going along anyway.

One slightly painful journey later – Wood's hand becoming tighter and tighter the closer we came to… where ever where going. – and we stopped before a familiar office. Wood knocked.

"Come in!"

"Professor, Harry's withdrawing from quidditch!" Wood almost shouted the second we stepped into Mcgonagall's office.

"What?" She asked as she put her quill down, appearing to be grading some papers.

"Harry's withdrawing from quidditch!" Wood repeated, luckily quite a bit quieter.

"Mister Potter?" She turned her sharp gaze on me, a gaze any student would have trouble meeting. Not me though, I cared little about her ire.

"I find that I do not have the same enthusiasm as I did when I first… Joined, so I'm withdrawing." I drowned. Wood just looked at me like I had gone crazy, to him I might as well have. Not being enthusiastic about quidditch probably equals crazy in his book.

She looked at me with confusion for a few seconds before understanding dawned on her face.

"I understand, mister Potter. We'll just have to find someone else." She added the last bit when it looked like Wood was going to interrupt her.

"Thank you, professor." With that surprisingly easy task done, I turned around and made my way to the library.

Once there I saw that Neville hadn't arrived yet, so I opened a book and began reading about a charm – technically a counter-charm, as it "counters" a locking charm – that had caught my eye. The _**Alohomora**_, as it was called, is a discreet and easy to learn charm to open any door. According to the book, anyway.

During my second reread of the passage containing the charm, Neville showed up. He looked like he had run the entire way here.

"Sorry, I lost track of time." He apologized between deep breaths. He looked genuinely sorry too, for something as minor of losing track of time when we hadn't even agreed _on_ a time. I'm starting to like Neville, just a little.

"No worries. It happens." I waved away the apology and motion for him to sit, something he did gladly. Silence fell for a while before Neville's stomach told us it was dinnertime. Almost two and a half hours had passed.

"Who makes the food anyway?" I asked as we packed up our stuff. "I dunno, house elves probably." Neville shrugged.

"What's a house elf?"

This innocent question led to a crash course of they enslaved and often mistreated elves, and how they had their own brand of magic. Though little is known about it.

"Wait. I want to test something." I said as I dragged Neville into an empty classroom about halfway to the great hall. "What?"

"Uhm, can I speak to a house-elf please?" I asked the empty room, ignoring Neville. Much to my surprise, the empty room answered. With a quite pop a small creature appeared out of nowhere.

"Students wanting something from Rozy?" The small and quite adorable little elf asked.

"Yes, could we perhaps take our dinner in this room? If it's not too much trouble of course." I asked, not seeing Neville's eyes widen behind me.

Rozy appeared to be thinking about it before she nodded her little head, making her ears flop everywhere. "Rozy can do that, Rozy will be right back." She said with a satisfied look on her face and disappeared.

I looked back at Neville to see him looking at me with a disbelieving look on his face. "What?"

"You… Just… But…" Neville gave up when a table for two showed up, complete with chairs and a white tablecloth. Seconds later it was filled with the same food they serve in the great hall, although much less of it.

"Thank you Rozy." I said to the once again empty classroom. I motion for Neville to take a seat and did the same.

After enjoying a peaceful meal, and sometimes catching Neville looking at me oddly, I spoke up again.

"This was delicious Rozy, thank you." The little elf appeared again and bowed deeply, trying to, and failing, to hide the blush that had spread over her cheeks. She disappeared soon after, taking the table, chairs and dirty dishes with her.

"Now that dinner is over, want to practice some spells?" I asked Neville, looking around the room and noticing that it was mostly empty.

"S-sure Harry."

"Relax, it'll be fine." I waved away his hesitation and got my book out to double check something. Satisfied, I looked around for something to practice on. I found nothing.

"Neville, can you do the _**Locomotor Mortis**_?"

"N-n-no, Harry." He looked down, apparently not wanting to see the disappointment on my face. Not that there was any.

"Alright, do you know the wand movements?" Neville nodded, good.

"Alright then, practice on me." I said casually as I laid on the ground. No need to fall on my face…

"What! No!" Neville practicality shouted, his hesitation and self-doubt coming back in full force. "What if I mess something up? What if you get hurt, what if…"

"Neville!" I interrupted. "If you don't want to practice at me, shoot at the wall." I said as I got back up. Still looking nervous, Neville did a halfhearted attempt. Which failed.

"And now with some enthusiasm." I drawled as I sat on a desk and watched Neville almost shake with shame.

"Neville!" I snapped at him, his head shooting up to mine. "Why are we here?"

Neville froze for a second then stood up straighter and stopped shaking. "To learn."

"Right. And when we learn, what do we do?"

"Make mistakes?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Telling you."

"Good, then try again." I watched as he squared his shoulder and tried again, with much more vigor this time.

After half an hour I was perplexed. Neville had the cruse down alright, but no matter how perfect his wand movements where, or how good his pronunciation was, his curse always came out slightly different. Slightly wrong. It was baffling.

"Well, you seem to have it down. Although why there is a level of variation in your spell work well will have to discover another time." I proclaimed as I jumped off the table that I had been sitting on.

"Now cast the curse on me." Neville, who had been looking happy for successfully doing the curse, looked a loss let happy after my proclamation. "But…"

"No buts, you have been casting that spell correctly six times already. Time to move on." I pointed at my legs and made a get on with it gesture. Neville took a deep breath and;

"_**Locomotor Mortis!**_" My legs flicked together, and I realized that I had still been standing. Luckily Neville realized the same and grabbed me by the shoulder before I could fall. "So what now?"

"Now I try to counter your curse, of course." I said as I grabbed my wand and pointed at my own legs;

"_**Finite incantatem.**_" Nothing happened. I checked my wand movements and did a few practice swings in the air.

"_**Finite incantatem.**_" A weak flurry of light impacted my legs, but nothing changed.

"_**Finite incantatem.**_" This time a bright beam shot to my legs, breaking the curse and freeing my legs. A look at Neville revealed him staring at me with wide eyes. "That was the first time you tried that charm, wasn't it?" He had a resigned expression on his face, like he knew the answer.

"Yes, why?"

"Why?! But… You… Third try… Never mind. Let's just go back to the library." He sighed, now wearing a mixture of awe and resignation.

"Not so fast." I said sternly. "You're not leaving here until you break _my _curse." He looked fearful for a second, like I was about to curse him right then and there. "Don't worry, practice first. These are the wand movements. Did you read the chapter?"

I asked as I showed him the wand movement regardless, and then I had him practice the incantation. "Good, practice both until I'm satisfied." When he looked at me funny, I decided to give him some motivation. "Because I _will _be cursing you in forty-five minutes."

"Or if I see you slacking." I added with an afterthought. "Chop Chop. Get to it." I clapped my hands for dramatic effect, then sat back on the desk and pulled out my defense book for second year. I borrowed it – Stole it with the intention to give it back – from a second year that was careless enough to forget it when leaving the library.

Half hour later Neville got his first result, a weak torrent of light that looked like it committed suicide soon after being created.

Ten minutes after that he got a decent result, a lightshow that actually made it to the walls. Just as the forty-five-minute passed, I motion for him to stop.

"Alright then, you got some decent results. A bit inconsistent, but its good enough for some real practice." I nodded at him sagely and told him to lie on the floor.

"Ready?" He nodded. I shot the curse at him, having already practiced it beforehand. His legs locked up and snapped together, it looked painful. It's not, just a bit uncomfortable.

"Alright then, good luck." I said in an obviously fake cheery voice.

"_**Finite incantatem.**_" Neville muttered, having long since tired of shouting everything and realizing it made no difference.

To my surprise, his legs where freed on the first try. Granted, he had forty-five-minutes beforehand, but still. Practicing against a wall and _actually breaking_ a curse are two very different things. Neville stood up and shot me a grin, one that I returned. Mine slightly more forced than his.

"Anything else you wanted to work on?" He asked sarcastically, but groaned when he saw my face.

"I did, actually. _**Alohomora**_, the book says that it can open doors and windows. Sound useful." I shrugged. Neville surprised me;

"It is, together with the _**Colloportus**_." When I looked at him strangely, he added; "Gran made me practice both when I was eight and locked myself in the closet, again." Now it was Neville's time to shrug. "Took me weeks, but gran was _insistent_."

"I get the _**Alohomora**_, but why make you learn alocking charm?"

"Punishment, or irony. One of those, said that if I kept locking myself in I might as well learn how to _really _lock myself in. Was so scared I didn't go near a closet for months." He looked sheepish at the end. With reason, I guess.

"Can you teach me?" I asked innocently. I could learn on my own, no doubt about that, but this might give him an ego boost. Merlin know the kid needs it.

"Really?" there was doubt in his voice, doubt and maybe a bit of smug satisfaction. Couldn't be sure though. When I nodded, he started talking;

"So I'll teach you the _**Colloportus**_ first, it's good to know how the charm works before trying to break it with _**Alohomora**_."

Neville spend ten minutes explaining how the spell works, then I practiced for another ten. In the end I managed a working version twenty-five minutes after learning that the spell exists. Not bad if I do say so myself. Neville looked a little put out, but that quickly changed to pride when he realized that he taught me something. _Him _teaching something to _Harry Potter_. Gran was going definitely going to think he was lying. It already brought a smile to his face.

I had already read about the _**Alohomora**_, so it took me only ten minutes or so to get it working. Took me another ten to break Neville's _**Colloportus**_ though, the kid can really lock a door. Merlin.

Maybe I'm using Merlin too much now, should really stop that before it slips out back "home". All hell would break loose should that happen.

"Alright, that's enough for now. Let's go spend the rest of the evening in the library. I still have that charms essay."

* * *

I opened the door to the charms classroom and found that all the tables had been pushed to the side, leaving a large open space in the middle. Flitwick was waiting there, seemingly meditating.

"Professor." I said as I put my bag to the side and walked up to him.

"Mister Potter. Good, we can begin." He stood up and looked at me. "Since we already established that you have no interest to join the dueling circles, I won't bore you with the rules. There is only one rule." He pointed sharply at my head. "Staying alive."

I said nothing, we just stared at each other until I gave a small nod. Flitwick seemed satisfied.

"Your first lesson will be in dodging, we'll be doing this until I say otherwise." I nodded and he continued. "For the first few lessons I will be shooting low level curse's at you, for motivation of course, and you will try your hardest to evade. Begin!"

With barely a second warning I was forced to dive to the side to avoid a purple looking curse coming straight for me.

"Well, we at least know that your reflexes are indeed excellent. That was meant as an example that these curses sting, quite badly at that." Flitwick crowed happily as he fired another spell at me, blue this time.

For the next five minutes or so I was forced to dive, roll and jump out of the way of increasingly fast and well-aimed curses. At the two-minute mark he had already hit me twice. At four I had a dozen painful reminders on my arms, legs and chest that yes, these curses sting quite a bit.

"That's enough, mister Potter." I stopped franticly looking for the next curse and bend over. That. Was. Tiring.

"You did pretty good, considering you have no prior training or experience. Well will be working on your rolls for the remainder of this lesson, you could break an arm doing some of the things you did." He scolded lightly as he flicked his wand.

I could immediately feel the pleasant sensation of pain disappearing as he healed my sting marks. When I looked up and saw him grinning at me, though, I was forcefully reminded that our kind and goofy charms professor was part goblin. A more cruel and vindictive species has yet to be found.

I was proved right as I was dragged headfirst into the most torture like _training_ session I will most likely ever experience. And I'm using the word _training_ very lightly here.

* * *

**That's it for today, I'll try to have a chapter of 4-5k every Friday. Wish me luck with that…**


	4. Enter the ice queen

**Surprise..?**

**hehe… he… *clears throat***

**Onwards!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. /Disclaimer**

* * *

Flitwick wore a pleased smile as mister Potter packed up his bag and prepared to leave. In the last month the kid had improved by leaps and bounds. He almost suspects that he practises on his own. But that's unlikely, he leaves here in bruises almost every Friday. It is… unlikely, that he practices again before he's had a week's rest.

"Mister Potter." Flitwick called out, stopping the boy from leaving.

"Professor?"

"You have come far in the last month. And I think it's time to move on to the next stage of your training." At Harry's non reaction he continued. "We shall be working on your aim as well as a handful of low level curses, starting next week. We shall continue your evasion exercises, of course." His smile left him as Harry's face remained blank. Normally his students would be overjoyed that the evasion exercises would be over - or atleast supplemented with other training - and that they were being thought some real magic. Not mister Potter though. He hadn't uttered a single complaint since his training began.

"Of course, professor." The boy never offered more than the absolute minimum anymore. Never spoke much anymore either, now that he thought about it. Never spoke up in class, or in the hallways. With the exception of mister Longbottom, and even then they are mostly one sided conversations. Not that Neville seems to mind, the kid seems thrilled to have someone to talk too.

"Then I will see you next Thursday, mister Potter. Same time, same place." Mister Potter left after a small bow, always the picture of polite these days. Ever since Miss Granger. It made Flitwick have to suppress a shudder, thinking about that tragedy. But no child should behave like that, no matter how much he and the other teacher complained about unruly students. A sigh left him as he sat down on his chair, he was getting too old to be worrying like this. Much too old.

* * *

I had to suppress a smile as Neville stood outside, some leftovers wrapped in a napkin waiting for me. I took the offered food and nodded my head in thanks, munching on it the second the napkin released it's goodies. Practice always had me hunger afterwards. We walked for a bit before we came to a 'our' empty classroom.

"Rozy?" A telltale pop was heard, and the classroom lost its content. Rozy was nothing if not efficient. "Thank you Rozy." I said softly. Never knowing if she hears me or not. I'd like to think she does though, sue me.

"Well then, let's beg..." I fire a stinging hex in the middle of my sentence. I rarely catch Neville off guard with it anymore.

Since Flitwick has started training me, I always insist that Neville allows me to train my accuracy afterwards. It had the added benefit of training Neville in the same way Flitwick trains me. By dodging a lot of annoying jinxes and curses.

Neville got better at dodging, of course. And I had the nagging feeling that it also trains your sixth sense, so to speak. Just last week a third year 'claw and a second year 'puff had an argument that got a little heated. When the 'claw shot a spell and missed the 'puff, it flew right at the back of Neville's head. And he swerved to the right at the last second!

Based on his disbelieving look he didn't do it consciously.

After I was done with my 'accuracy training' – something that did actually help with my accuracy, even if it was just an excuse to train Neville. If he was going to hang around me I was going to make damm sure he knew how to survive. – we trudged back to the tower and had a quick shower before going to bed. Even though we came back way after curfew, nearing midnight, neither of our roommates said anyway. Mostly because they were asleep, but also because we ignored their protests and never got caught anyway.

Neville also stood up for himself more these days. Something that shocked quite a few people the first time Neville told someone to mind his own damm business when our housemates where getting too nosy about where we were all the time.

It was a corridor away from the library the next morning that thing went a little... wrong. Well, maybe not wrong exactly. But certainly more exciting.

Malfoy and his two lumbering trees were making a beeline straight for us, and not to wish us a good morning.

"Potter, I see you and Longbottom are going to the library again. Are you so stupid that you need the entire weekend to do your homework?"

That…. was kinda weak. Even for Malfoy. Staring blankly at him seems to unnerve him, or at least I hope so. There's no professor or other student in the hall, and I doubt that Neville will bother to pull me off him if he crosses the line again.

"Nothing to say, Potter?" He sneered. He out to provoke a reaction then. Sadly for him I'm actually quite good at controlling my emotions, in normal circumstances.

At my continued silence he switches targets. "And you Longbottom, not defending your half-blood friend? And here I thought Gryffindors where supposed to be brave."

Neville follows my lead though, and just stares silently at him. Ironically, not being able to make us angry made him angry. That kid has issues. Don't know what kind, but issues.

Did I just think of someone my age as a kid? Bigger problems, he's going for him wand.

Seeing him aim just makes it easy. I almost mockenly sidestep the jinx that comes towards me as Neville does the same for a couple of curses, courtesy from the lumbering trees.

Being able to see where the curses and jinxes come from, it was almost laughably easy to sidestep and dodge them. It was actually kinda funny to see him get more frustrated as we continue to dodge. My humor dries instantly when I see a cutting curse coming for my head. It was one of the weaker ones, but still. Neville sees it too. He's not happy, not even a little.

With a very wolf like sounding snarl Neville shoots two curses in rapid succession, catching one of the trees in the arm and they other in the leg. Both go down as their legs snap shut and they lose their balance, ending their participation in this little 'duel'.

I retract my hand from where it was resting on my own wand as both Snape and the librarian come storming towards us. Snape looked like he was stalking the distance, actually. That looks kinda cool. In a dramatic, cape billowing super villain kinda way.

"Potter, what are you doing?" Snape hissed as he cancels both leg-locking curses.

"No need to ask them, professor. I heard the whole thing." Madam Pince, the librarian, said with an annoyed scowl at the Slytherins. They never were her favorite students, always loud and not handling her books with the care they deserved. Ravenclaws, on the other hand. Now there's a house that handles her books with the reverence they deserve.

"I heard mister Malfoy here make some challenging and insulting remarks before I hear spell fire hitting the walls. Considering all the damage seems to be on the side of the gryffindor's, not counting the last two curses, it seems clear to me who started it." With that she twirled around and narrowed her eyes at Malfoy. "And don't think I didn't see you firing that cutting curse young man! If you had hit one of my books with that I'd have your blocked from the library before you could say _my father will hear about this_." She finished with a huff, waving her finger in his face for good measure.

Straightening her robe, she spoke; "Ten points from each of you for fighting in the hallways." Seeing Neville narrowing his eyes she adds. "Yes, even you two. Fighting in the hall is expressly forbidden."

Neville looks like he wants to argue, but I cut in before he can. "You have our deepest apologies, Madam. We will endeavor to never fight in these halls again."

I somehow said that without sounding sarcastic, I'm very proud of myself. Especially considering I didn't fire a single spell and we didn't start it.

Snape apparently wasn't willing to argue with the librarian because he and his three snakes left, capes billowing behind them. I just pick up our bags where we dropped them on the floor and walk inside the library, half throwing Neville's bag on his chair.

"Why didn't you let me defend us?!" Neville's huffs angrily as he grabs his bag and drops it on the floor before sitting down. "We didn't start it! It's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair, Neville." I speak softly, feeling the heavy atmosphere. Neville deflated almost instantly at my rebunk; "I know. Believe me, I know."

He hesitates for a moment before metaphorically squaring his shoulders. "My parents don't even recognize me when I visit them. There in St Mungo's." He answers my unasked question. "They lost their sanity when they were tortured at the end of the last war."

"Who tortured them?" He's uncharacteristically serious now, feels like this is something he's been living with for a long time. "A group of Death eaters led by Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Where is Bellatrix now?"

"Azkaban." That sounded bitter.

"She was convicted?" I ask, surprised. Isn't that supposed to be good?

Neville snorts loudly. "She loudly proclaimed that she was loyal to you-know-who and would wait faithfully until the day he returned. They had little choice but to sentence her. My parents were never even brought up at trail." Jesus, no wonder he's bitter.

We sit silently for a few minutes as i contemplate whether to speak up or not.

"This world is rotten, Neville. A student dies and it's not even mentioned in the daily prophet, let alone an investigation." At his raised eyebrow I add; "Believe me, I checked." I look out the window as I let my thoughts spill out. "House elves are mistreated or downright abused more often than not. Werewolves are so discriminated against that more than half kill themselves before they hit their first year, if they even make it that far. They are dangerous, yes, but shunning them will not help the problem. If anything, it makes it worse. And don't get me started on the difference in power between the muggleborns and the few elite that run this world."

Neville doesn't say anything as I ramble, just looking out the window. Watching some early risers enjoy a morning walk.

"Half-giants like Hagrid are scorned for being born. Corruption is so far ingrained in the government I'll bet you half my vault there's a few dozen running around with a mark still on their arm. Muggleborns can't rise to certain influential positions in the government, if they get hired at all. Hermione dies and this fucki…"

I forcefully snap my jaw shut before I can finish that sentence. That's more than I have said in the past month. I look at Neville to see him still staring out that damm window.

"You know alot about this. How?" He doesn't sound judgmental, just curious.

I snort in response. "I read, and listen. You'd be surprised what people talk about when they think there alone."

At Neville's glance I turn back to look outside. "So what are you going to do about it? This world I mean."

"Right now? Nothing." I evade his question easily enough, but he doesn't look convinced. At all.

* * *

Training, homework and classes blend together and before I knew it the Christmas holidays had arrived. Neville and I sat a little way apart from the others, nothing unusual. What was unusual was the letter that appeared on my lap with the words _Don't open at the table _written on it. Curious but never one to disregard sound advice, I tuck the letter safely in my bag before finishing my plate. Neville shot me a look, but I just shrug.

After the feast me and Neville duck into a storage room and I apply some basic privacy charms I have recently learned. One can never be too careful. Neville adds his own too, if only to practise. I open the letter to find two lines written on it.

_2th floor girls bathroom, 9 pm. Bring Longbottom if you like._

"That's… suspicious." Neville says dryly as I burn the letter. "We going?"

I stare blankly at him for a moment before shrugging. "What's the wors-" Neville slaps a hand over my mouth before I can finish that sentence. After a second he pulls it away and cancels the privacy charms before walked out into the hallway. I chuckle before following him.

At 9 pm sharp we turn the last corner towards the bathroom and look around. "If this was Malfoy's idea to get us in trouble, it's horrible. It's not even after curfew." I deadpan as Neville cautiously opens the door, only to see a ghost crying its eyes out on the sink.

"Go inside then, we don't have all night." A blonde first year - or small second year, I suppose - said as she comes around the corner. I gave a small sigh when I saw a Slytherin badge on her robe.

She apparently notices and gives her own annoyed sigh. "We're not all Malfoy's you know. Now get inside, I'd rather not be caught talking to you two."

When I walk inside the bathroom I see Neville checking the stalls for uninvited guests and give him a small smile. He does a small mock bow, but I see the pleased grin on his face regardless.

"So what can I help you with Miss..?" I ask after she comes in behind us and we all apply our own privacy charms. Apparently we're all paranoid.

"Greengrass. Daphne Greengrass."

"This is Neville Longbottom. And as I'm sure you're aware my name is Harry potter. What can we help you with, Miss Greengrass?"

She looks uncertain for a split second before she adopts a cold look. "I want to make a deal."

"What kind of deal?" I say after she doesn't continue speaking. When she doesn't say anything again I will admit to getting slightly inpatient, before it's drowned out.

She notices. She's pretty sharp. "I can help you with that."

Fine, I'll play. "With what?"

"Occlumency, of course." She says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It's really not.

"What's Occlumency?"

"Exactly. I can help longbottom too, with his inconsistency problem." She looks almost happy that I fell for it. Don't know what I fell for, but she certainly thinks it's something.

"And what would you want in return for this… kindness?" I say slowly, putting a nice touch of dryness in my voice at the word kindness.

She looks uncertain again, gotta remember she only eleven. Just like us. Well, like Neville. I haven't felt like a child for years now.

"Protection." At Neville's snort she quickly adds. "Not for me, for my sister."

"And what makes you think I can protect your sister, or would even want to?" At my dismissive tone a flash of panic crosses her face.

"Like I said, I can you help and Longbottom."

I wave my hand dismissively. "Based on your reaction occlumency is some sort of mind magic. I can no doubt find all that I would need to know in the library. As for Neville's inconsistencies, we have a few running theories. The leading one is that Neville's not using a wand that's a good match. He is going to convince his grandmother to go to Ollivander's over the break."

Hearing me easily dismiss her bargaining power another flash of panic crosses her face. She opens her mouth to speak but I continue talking before she can; "The issue of my motivation aside, what makes you think I could even protect your sister?"

She has the audacity to snort. "You took Malfoy down a peg without firing a single spel. Longbottom managed to drop his bodyguards with a single curse each. _Longbottom_,of all people. And don't think no one noticed that you spend all your time in the library. Or that you purposely struggle in class when we learn a new charm or transfiguration."

My look of slight amusement at seeing her panicked drains of my face. Seeing this, Neville casually walks over and leans against the door. Effectively blocking the only route of escape. He's not looking all that amused anymore either.

"Have you been spying on us, Miss Greengrass?" I lean forwards slightly, my face carefully blank. She glances back to the door to see Neville blocking it. She gulps almost audibly before her face goes blank again.

"Yes." She admits. "After that incident with Malfoy I wanted to know what you have been hiding. I managed to see two of your 'training session', as you call them, before you put up privacy charms." She glances back to Neville again before continuing; "You learning privacy charms, even basic ones, is impressive but not all that strange. You're the boy-who-lived after all, you're supposed to be some super battle-mage or something." Her occlumency, as it is apparently called, couldn't contain what she thought of that notion. "But him," She gestures at Neville. "is another story all together. He moves differently, knows what he is doing in almost all his classes now and to top it off hasn't melted one of his couldrants in months."

She takes a deep breath and looks me straight in the eyes. "And that all began after he started hanging out with _you_. I don't have any allies in my house. A few non-aggression pacts that are worth the paper they aren't written on, yes. But no allies, let alone someone that would dare stand up to Malfoy."

At my 'go on' gesture she takes another deep breath and finally says what's actually troubling her "I can survive, if I have too. My sister won't. She too naive and not nearly ruthless enough to survive in the snake pit. I Wan..."

I cut her off before she can continue with her proposal; "You seek to make an alliance with us so that you can protect your sister. You would set aside your pride and risk harm from within your own house out of loyalty." I nod towards Neville and he steps away from the door, freeing the exit.

"You have yourself a deal, Miss Greengrass. Help me with my occlumency and tell us your suspicions about Neville's inconsistencies and I will protect your sister against any that would harm her."

If she was surprised with my abrupt decision she didn't show it. I offer my hand and she shakes it, sealing out alliance.

"Neville does indeed need a new wand. The one he has now is a decent match, he can still cast spells after all, but a perfect match will fix any problems he has."

I make a show of nodded thoughtfully. "As we suspected then, good. Will you return home over christmas?" She's shaking her head before I even finish speaking. "My mother and sister are going to Spain. I don't particularly like the heat, so I'm staying. I was going to spend my time studying or maybe convince you to make this… alliance. But that seems a moot point now."

"Indeed. If it is agreeable with you, shall we meet in the library tomorrow at 9 am? We can start on my occlumency lessons." When she looked hesitant for a moment and I had to withhold a sign.

"I'm not in the habit of going back on my word, Miss Greengrass. When your sister comes to hogwarts she will be under my protection." I mumble; "For all the good it will do her."

"Out of curiosity, has anyone else been paying… attention, to what me and Neville are doing?"

She actually blushes a little. "Truthfully? No. Although Malfoy's been talking with some of the upper years. I'll see what I can find out."

I give a small nod of thanks and walk towards the exit, canceling the privacy charms as I pass Neville. _All_ of them. Seeing her eyes widened brought a grin to my face.

This turned out far better than I thought it would.

* * *

After eating a quick breakfast and saying goodby to Neville I made my way to the library. With only about twenty or so students choosing to remain at hogwarts, the library was predictable empty. I almost immediately see Daphne hanging around one of the tables.

I nod as a greeting and sit down, looking at her expectantly.

"Alright, let's get started." She takes a second to order her thoughts and dives right in. "The first thing you need to know is that occlumency mainly does three things. The first is that it protects your mind from being invaded and your thoughts read like a book. The second that it help control and regulate emotion. The final main use is that it can order your thought, making it easier to remember information that is properly 'sorted', so to speak."

With a nod to signal I understand she continues.

"The first step to learning occlumency is to call upon a haze. It's different for anyone, or so my teacher said. For some they simply picture nothingness, other feel like they are surrounded by an ocean. The point is to cast a protective layer over your thoughts and emotions. From what I have seen you can already do this." Another nod. "Good. This step usually takes the second longest. It took me nearly a year before i could call it up at all. This first barriers, as my teacher called it, does little to protect you from all but the weakest of mind attacks. Better known as legilimency. What it does do is drown out everything and make it feel like your seeing everything through a pane of glass."

At my puzzled look she shrugged. "Like i said, it's different for everyone. Now, the second step is to order your memories. This can be done in a number of ways. Whatever you can think of that makes them easily accessible to you and compact enough so that you can protect them."

She hesitates before continuing; "This means that you will have to go through _all _of your memories and order them. This will also help to increase your memory as information becomes easier to find and access. You can store them however you wish. Some picture a library with each book a memorie and each page a piece of information."

She wouldn't have gotten a stronger reaction if she had slapped me in the face. To relive _everything_, all those years in the darkness. All that pain, Hermione's dea…

No. I refuse!

I will not do it!

You cannot force me to do this!

_You owe it to her. To all of them. _The rational part of my mind supplied smoothly. _ If this gives you power, and thus influence, it must be done._

I have always hated arguing with myself, you never win. Or rather, you both win _and _lose. Waste of energy, really.

So, without as much of a by your leave and with a resigned sigh I sunk into my mind. Something that came so naturally I didn't even question how easy it was.

* * *

"em however you wish. Some picture a library with each book a memorie and each page a piece of information." Daphne finished, glad she took some time to prepare that opening speech last night.

When she look at her 'student' though, she saw Harry was busy displaying two dozen emotion on his face in rapid succession. Shock, anger, grief and finally resigned acceptance where all she could make out in the maelstrom that was his face. But that last one. That was an look she is so painfully familiar with she nearly gasped.

She saw it in the mirror each morning, after all.

That feeling of fear and resignation, but knowing all you can do is move forward with ever diminishing hope.

The feeling of knowing you _have _to do something, and hating yourself for it.

And that's when she realized - with all the subtlety of running into a brick wall - that Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, was broken.

Maybe as broken as she was.

But she has he sister. Someone that can make her smile even on the worse of days. Who does Potter have?

Ron Weasley, was the answer that popped into her mind first. But Weasley is home. Home after sustaining grievous injuries failing to save Granger.

So who does that leave? Longbottom.

Better than nothing, Daphne supposed. Although to be fair, he's changed. More confident and self-assured.

And then there's Potter's mysterious home live. Speculation ran rampart on that front, so no actually factual information. But even she, with the limited information that she has, can she it probably wasn't a happy one.

When she looks back to Potter she sees him heave a sigh and than he has the telltale vacant look in his eyes that signal he's either souless or busy inside his own mind.

After her little epiphany, she felt the strong urge to look after his body. Empty as the castle was, with the students having left almost an hour ago, you never know.

She couldn't explain the surging feeling of fondness for the smaller than he should be boy in front of her. And she really would prefer not to look too closely into it, thank you very much.

It isn't everyday you find a kindred spirit, after all.

* * *

**I really kinda suck in spelling but have an overactive imagination! Send help!**

**How?**

**Well, offer to be my beta, of course.**

**We have a limited stock, so come get your before it's where out!**


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